


Saying Goodbye

by clgfanfic



Category: Shades of LA, War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A post-"He Feedth Among the Lilies" story</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saying Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Green Floating Weirdness #15nunder the pen name Gillian Holt and Llyr Chaves.

_"Her unfinished business is taken care of, thanks to you and the others."_

 

_Hi, remember me?  Yeah, I'm the one who's been telling you about Michael Burton, the LA detective who's been helping us shades get our unfinished business done so we can move on to Heaven, or the Happy Hunting Ground, or Nirvana, or whatever.  And I know I already told you, but Michael's a great guy, I mean a really great guy.  He's nice, and cute, and kind, and cute, and, well, you get the idea._

_Me, I've been having a great time keeping an eye on Michael, and I don't just mean his gorgeous bod.  It really makes me feel like the human race has potential when I watch him helpin' us shades.  One of these days I guess I'll get my turn, and Michael will help me get my unfinished business cleaned up, in fact, I was next in line to talk to him when I met Karen.  And let me tell you, she needed his help a lot more than I did._

_Those blasted aliens, they've really screwed things up here in Limbo.  The influx of souls here is, well, overwhelming.  And each and every one of them's got a ton of unfinished business.  Wouldn't you?  Like, there you are, living your life and zap! you're an instant hotel for a cross between a giant frog and a walnut!  Yuck._

_I mean, every medium in California is booked solid for at least a couple of years, thanks to these slimeballs.  And all these new shades know stuff about the aliens that the people at the Blackwood Project should know, but Michael's the only medium who knows them personally._

_That's why when I met Karen I knew she had to get to Michael A-S-A-P, so I traded places with her in line and sent her on to Michael as soon as he was done helping this FBI agent's dad wrap up a little unfinished biz with a chain smoker with an attitude…_

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Detective Michael Burton poked at the keyhole several times before his key slipped in and the lock turned.  Leaving his keys dangling in the lock, Michael scuffed into his house, heading straight for the couch that sat enticingly in the center of his living room.  Reaching the sofa, he turned and fell backwards, landing on the soft pillows with a satisfied sigh.

Jet lag.  He hated jet lag.

His blue eyes closed as a contented smile lifted the corners of his mouth.  His shoulders dug into the soft cushions and the tired detective grunted softly.  Sleep descended quickly on Michael.

_Detective Burton?_

The contented, child-like smile curved into a petulant frown and Michael's eyes squeezed closed.

_Detective Burton?_

Michael turned onto his side with an annoyed grunt and snuggled further into the sofa pillows, trying to ignore the interruption that threatened to drag him back to wakefulness.

_Please, I need your help._

The detective's hand snaked up, fingers curling into a tattered throw pillow that he promptly pulled over his head.

 _I need your help,_ now _.  The aliens are going to—_

Michael snatched the pillow off his face and sat up, startling his pretty blonde visitor.  "Aliens?"

The young woman took a step back, but nodded.  _Aliens.  They killed me._

"Another shade?"

She nodded again.  _I'm sorry I had to wake you up, but wouldn't the bed be more comfortable?_

Michael dropped back onto the warmth of the soft couch and sighed.  "I've gotta get help.  I can't keep up.  I can't be a cop and a shade-activist at the same time.  I've gotta sleep sometime, don't I?!"

She took another step back.  _I'm sorry, but if I don't get a hold of Harrison—_

Michael's eyes narrowed and he peered at her skeptically.  "Harrison Blackwood?"

 _Yes_ , she said, her expression softening.  _Do you know him?_

"I know him," Michael replied, his eyes dropping closed.  Dr. Harrison 'there are aliens out there taking over human bodies' Blackwood.

 _That's perfect!_ she said, moving closer and reaching out, grabbing Burton's foot and shaking it.  _Come on, let's go._

"Go?" Michael asked distractedly, his eyes still closed.

_Let's go see Harrison._

Michael whimpered.  "Lady, I haven't slept in three days.  I'm starting to see flying pigs out there.  I've gotta get some rest."

After _we see Harrison._

"Now."

 _Not now_ , she said.  _We have to go see Harrison now._

"Please?"

_No._

Michael's eyes cracked open.  The blonde shade was standing at the foot of the couch, her arms crossed over her chest, looking annoyed.  He grinned.  She was kind of cute when she was annoyed.

 _Well?_ she asked.

"First things first.  Who are you?"  Michael asked.

 _Karen McKinney_ , she supplied, then smiled.  _You're kind of cute when you're sleepy.  Makes you look like this old otter I used to like at the zoo._

"An old otter?"

She nodded, then asked, _Can we go now?_

Michael sighed heavily, realizing that he wasn't going to get his well-earned and well-deserved sleep.  "I'll make a call," he said.

Karen squealed.  _Oh, thank you!  This is very important.  Really._

"Don't mention it," Burton grumbled, reaching for the phone.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Who?"

"Karen McKinney," Harrison repeated, drawing the door shut behind him, his gazed locked on Ironhorse's.  There was no way the colonel was escaping his office until Harrison got exactly what he wanted – full cooperation.

The colonel realized immediately that Blackwood intended to hold him prisoner until he got his way.  _Well, we'll just see about that_ , he silently challenged the scientist.

"Harrison, Karen's been missing for almost a year," Ironhorse said flatly.

"I know, but she's back and she needs to talk to us."

Ironhorse stood and stepped around his desk.  He was getting past Blackwood one way or another.  "She called you and—"

"No, Karen didn't call me, Michael Burton did."

Paul stopped mid-stride.  "Burton?"

Harrison nodded.

"Karen's a shade?"

Harrison nodded again, the pain and loss he felt clear in his pinched expression.

"I'm sorry," the colonel said, reconsidering.  Thus far the detective had been on the up and up, and he didn't seem like the type to cry wolf.

"I appreciate that, Colonel.  But the fact remains that she's back and she needs to talk to us about the aliens!  We need to go.  Now!"

Ironhorse sighed softly.  Blackwood's enthusiasm and approach could be a little overwhelming at times, which was actually most of the time.  Still, she might have information they could use.  "All right, I'll make the necessary arrangements."

Harrison beamed at Paul.  "That's why you're my hero, Colonel."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Ironhorse replied, returning to his desk and reaching for his phone.  "Where is Burton?"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Michael sat in the Santa Barbara small park, trying not to nod off in the warm sunlight.  The location was a compromise, about halfway for him and the members of the Blackwood Project.  Twenty-five yards away several children played on the beachside swings and jungle-gym while mothers, fathers, and babysitters watched with distracted smiles.  Beyond the grass, sand, and palm trees a wide sidewalk snaked across the sand with in-line skaters and bicyclists negotiating around older strollers and the occasional dog-walker.  And past the sidewalk was the beach and the blue of the Pacific.  Short waves curled, breaking on the sand, chasing children and sandpipers up and down the beach.

All in all it was a peaceful, hypnotic tableau and the tired detective found it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. Without meaning to, he slipped into sleep, images of pirate ships and flying pigs filling his mind.

 _There they are!_ Karen cried, shaking Michael.

The rude awakening startled the detective and he jerked upright, lost his balance, and slid off the picnic table where he napped, leaning back against the tall tree the table was chained to.  He landed on the ground with a thud and a softly muttered curse, refusing to look up and see if the two men were laughing.

 _Harrison!_ Karen called, racing toward the astrophysicist.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Harrison chuckled softly as Michael tried to untangle arms and legs as he stood.  "He looks tired."

"He does know how to make an impression, doesn't he," Ironhorse stated softly.  "Not exactly what I'd expect from one of LA's finest."

Before Harrison could reply, he felt invisible hands grab his arms and swing him around.

"Blackwood?" the colonel snapped, wondering what was wrong with the scientist.

The uncanny impression sent an immediate spark of fear racing along Harrison's nerves, but that was quickly replaced by an equally strong burst of joy.  "Karen?" he asked.

 _It's me_ , she said.

Michael walked up to join the two men, wondering if the sudden new arrivals in the park were part of the colonel's security force.  "It's her," he said.

"Tell her that I am so glad—"

"She can hear you just fine, Dr. Blackwood."

"Harrison" the scientist and Karen said in unison.

Michael couldn't help but smile.  "She can hear you fine, Harrison."

Blackwood glanced around, trying to find something that would tell him where she was, but there was nothing – no ripple in the air, no pocket of cold, nothing.

Sadness replaced the joy.  "Oh, Karen," he said softly, his voice catching.  "I'm so sorry."

_It wasn't your fault, Harrison._

"She said it wasn't your fault," Michael translated, watching the pair.  Clearly there was a great deal of history that Karen hadn't bothered to mention, or maybe he'd been napping when she'd told him.

"Yes, yes it was," Harrison responded.  "I should've brought you back to the Cottage, I should've—"  He broke off, shaking his head.

 _If you'd taken me back they would've found all of us_ , Karen said.

"She said the aliens would have found all of you if you'd done that," Michael relayed, then yawned.  "Excuse me."

"She's right, Harrison," Ironhorse said, noting the dark circles under the detective's eyes.

Blackwood wanted to argue the point, but he couldn't.  Karen was right.

"Why is she here?" the colonel asked, knowing that in the past shades had brought them information on alien plots.

 _The experiments_ , she said, and Michael repeated her words.  _The aliens are using the data they got from all of us and they're close to creating a kind of immunization drug._

"To keep them safe from Earth's bacteria?" Harrison asked.

Michael watched Karen nod.  "Yes," he said.

"Where are they?" Ironhorse asked, a jolt of fear lancing cold through his gut.

 _They have cabins up in the mountains_ , she explained.  _They're still there, putting the finishing touches on their drug.  You have to hurry.  They'll have to keep killing people to get what they need to make this work._

"We'll need Suzanne," Harrison said after Michael told them what Karen had said.

Ironhorse nodded, reaching for the radio that he wore at his belt.  He keyed it and said, "Bring me a California map."  He looked to Blackwood.  "I'll have her meet us with another full squad as soon as we know where we're going."

 _I don't know if I can find it on a map_ , Karen told Michael.

"Just do your best," the detective replied and yawned again.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The location the aliens had picked was a remote research station, three small cabins nestled in the Sierra Nevada mountains northeast of Placerville.  Karen provided more than enough information for them to find the site and several soldiers conducted a recon of the station, bringing back what information they could so Ironhorse could develop a plan of attack at a nearby hotel.  The planning was done without Michael, who had headed straight for a bed, collapsed and fell into a sleep that looked more like a coma.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Early morning fog curled through the trees as Ironhorse waited with Blackwood, Suzanne, and the detective while the Omegans encircled the cabins, creating an impenetrable perimeter.  Once the soldiers were in place, the colonel signaled them to close their circle, flushing out any aliens who might be standing guard in the woods and killing them.

Less than ten minutes later the soldiers finished their search of the trees, finding no alien guards.

"Confident, aren't they," Harrison said softly.

Ironhorse nodded.  "Too much so.  Either they're just stupid, or they're almost done."

The soldiers waited behind the first row of trees at the edge of the cleared space the cabins occupied, trying to get a look into the buildings through high-powered field glasses.

The civilians and Ironhorse waited silently until the two squad leaders checked in.

"This is Green-Six, no contact in the trees.  Visual inspection of the southwest cabin inconclusive, but there are at least five targets," Coleman stated.  "Repeat, five boogies."

"Red-Six, no contact in the trees," Stavrakos said.  "Northeast and southeast cabins show five or six targets each.  Southeast cabin also has a lot of crystaline-based equipment visible."

"I want to see that equipment," Harrison said softly.

"We'll try," Ironhorse said, then turned to Burton.  "You stay here with doctors Blackwood and McCullough until the area's secured."

Michael nodded. "I understand, Colonel," he replied.

Ironhorse nodded, then keyed his radio and said, "This is Apple-One, go on my mark… ready… and… mark."

Two squads of Omegans rushed the three cabins.  Small, well-armed groups entered each of the structures, clearing them of aliens with well-practiced ease and grace.  Less than three minutes later all the aliens were dead.

Ironhorse waited for the all-clear from his squad-leaders, then escorted Blackwood, Suzanne, and Michael down to the cabins.

"Which one?" Harrison asked Karen.

 _All of them_ , she replied.  _They were doing experiments, going from cabin to cabin.  They kept us in small rooms under the cabin floor._

Michael relayed the comments.

"Then we start with the first one," Harrison said, striding into the nearest log structure.

Ironhorse and Suzanne followed him, with Burton on his heels.  Inside, they found a horror chamber of human medical and alien equipment sitting on tables and hanging from the ceiling.

"I'll check below," Ironhorse said, leaving the two scientists to begin their work.  "Maybe we'll find some survivors."

 _No, you won't_ , Karen said, but Michael didn't pass the comment along.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Several minutes later the colonel rejoined them, his face pale and his lips pressed into a thin line.

"What's wrong?" Suzanne asked.

Ironhorse shook his head.  "No survivors."

"What did they do to them?" Harrison demanded.

Paul swallowed, then replied.  "It looks like they might've been dissected alive.  I counted thirty."

"Oh my God," Suzanne breathed, a hand coming up to cover her mouth.

"Is that true?" Harrison asked Burton.

The detective glanced at Karen who simply nodded.  "Yes," he said.

Blackwood's eyes dropped closed for a moment, then popped open.  "Come on," he told Suzanne.  "We have to figure this out.  Now."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

In the early afternoon Blackwood and Suzanne motioned for Burton and Ironhorse to join them.

"We think we know what they were doing," Suzanne said.

"It looks like the aliens implanted a small crystalline device in the bodies of their victims," Harrison picked up.

"That foreign body caused an immune reaction in the hosts," Suzanne added.

 _Then they harvested the victims_ , Karen said, and Michael repeated it.

"Once they had them here," Harrison said, hoping he was wrong, "they dissected the victims and removed the devices."

Michael watched Karen's expression and nodded.

"Then they took these devices, whatever they are," Suzanne said, holding up a small greenish crystal triangle.  "And ran them through this device."  She pointed to an inverted crystal funnel wrapped with organic green tendrils that were slowly turning brown.

"Which did what?" the colonel asked.

"We think it works like the device we found at the Lyndon power plant," Harrison said.  "They inserted the devices and this thing synthesized a liquid that might give them an immunity to Earth's bacteria."

"This," Suzanne said, holding up a beaker almost full of a milky green liquid.

"But you don't know that for sure," Ironhorse challenged.

 _They believed it would protect them_ , Karen said.

"Karen says that the aliens thought it would keep them safe," Burton interrupted before Blackwood could reply.

With a heavy sigh the colonel nodded.  "Then we have to assume that it will." He looked from Burton to the two scientists.  "Now what?"

 _That's the first step.  Then they refined it.  They hadn't tested it yet_ , Karen said.

"Maybe nothing," Burton said.  "They haven't tested it.  And Karen says that stuff's just the first step."

"Then we got here in time!" Suzanne said, her spirits climbing.

"But what if they decide to run the test again?" Blackwood asked.

"They haven't duplicated their efforts in the past," Ironhorse reminded him.

"Because _they_ failed," the scientist challenged.  "This time we stopped them short."

"We'll just have to wait and see if there's an increase in reports on missing persons," Ironhorse countered.  "There's really nothing else we can do.  At least we stopped them here."

"If we can figure out what this really is, maybe we can come up with something to neutralize it," Suzanne offered.

"I just think we're overlooking something here," Blackwood said.

 _It's all right, Harrison_ , Karen said.  _You did all you could.  I just couldn't let them actually get a vaccine._

Michael relayed the comments.

"But we didn't find them in time," Harrison countered.  "The colonel said there are thirty people down there.  All dead."

 _But we didn't die in vain_ , she told him.  _Our deaths didn't benefit the aliens._

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Ironhorse and an Omegan escort took Harrison, Suzanne, and Michael back to the hotel while the other soldiers remained at the cabin site to clean up any evidence of the aliens.  After a dinner that all four picked at, they retired to their rooms for the night.  Harrison, knowing he wasn't going to be able to sleep, paced.  A soft knock at his door drew him across the room.

"Who is it?"

"Michael Burton."

Blackwood opened the door, allowing the detective to enter.  "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Michael assured.  "Karen just wanted to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" Harrison asked, suddenly confused.  "But—"

"Her unfinished business is taken care of, thanks to you and the others," Michael explained.

"But—"  Harrison broke off, not sure what he wanted to say.

 _Tell him he can't blame himself_ , Karen instructed Michael.

"She says that you can't blame yourself."

_He did everything he possibly could; more than anyone to help me._

"You did all you could; more than anyone else."

"But it wasn't enough," Blackwood insisted.  "There's so much I want to tell her.  So much that I didn't say, that I couldn't explain."

_I know, Harrison._

"She knows."

"But—"

A single shaft of almost blinding white light lanced through the room.  In the glow Harrison and Michael could both see Karen.  She smiled and blew a kiss to the astrophysicist.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you, too," Harrison replied.

"You have more help than you know, Harrison.  You will win this war.  Be strong."

The light faded and with it, Karen.

"She's gone, isn't she."  It wasn't a question.

Michael nodded.

"Where did she go?"

Burton shrugged.  "I'm not sure.  Heaven?"

"I'd like to believe that," Harrison said, walking over to where he'd seen the young woman.  "But I'm not sure I do."

"I don't know what her beliefs were, but I am sure that wherever she is now, it's a lot better place than here."

Harrison turned, meeting the detective's gaze.  "Thank you."

Michael grinned.  "Every time I hear about these aliens, it's… it's… frightening and really weird."

The comment sparked a matching grin on Harrison's face.  "Tell me about it.  You'll be sure to contact us if you run across others who have information about the aliens?"

Michael nodded.  "But you might be smart to put out an ad asking for mediums to contact you if they've had messages from the other Side dealing with aliens."

"Mediums?" Harrison echoed, the spark in his eyes suddenly reappearing.  "You mean there are other people out there helping the dead with their unfinished business?"

Burton nodded.  "I couldn't do it all my myself!"

"And other victims of the aliens might be giving these mediums information we could use?"

"Yeah, maybe, but you have to be careful—"

"My God, we have a huge untapped army out there who could be gathering intelligence!"

"But some of the mediums aren't—"

"I've got to tell Ironhorse.  We have to get in touch with these mediums.  Now.  Right now!"

"But—!"

Michael watched Blackwood stride out of the room and heard the loud knock in the hall.

"Blackwood, do you know what time it is?"

"Colonel, we need to talk."

"Talk?"

"Talk.  About mediums."

"Mediums?  Blackwood—"

Michael heard the door close and the muffled sounds of an argument.  He sighed heavily and eyed Blackwood's unused bed.  With a relieved grin he shuffled over and dropped onto it, asleep before he bounced.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

_Michael's got a good idea there – getting mediums to help out the Blackwood Project.  Of course they're going to run into some real weirdos, but that's the way it goes.  I know lots of shades who will be more than willing to give up their places in line so the shades with alien business can get to a reputable medium who can contact the Project.  Lots.  After all, we all have a vested interest in getting rid of the aliens so we can all get our unfinished business done.  So, if you're a medium, get ready for a big jump in your spirit business!_


End file.
